


Three Types of Smile - Kitten and the Don

by TheOvidians



Category: Mafia - Fandom, UT Mob, Undertale, Undertale AU - Fandom, gaster!sans - Fandom, kitten and the don au, undertale mob au
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:29:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOvidians/pseuds/TheOvidians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is another tribute for the alternative Undertale Mob AU "Kitten and the Don". It depicts the story of a 30-year-old Frisk, who became the right hand man of a powerful Don, who is simply called G (Gaster!Sans).<br/>It focuses on one of Frisk's mission, which escalates pretty soon and leaves them behind questioning their own position in the underground. Who are they really? A monster or a human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Types of Smile - Kitten and the Don

There are three types of smiles. Someone could smile out of sheer joy, a pure, pleasurable emotion. It could also realize itself as a devious, dangerous smirk, which is even more frightening than a serious stare. Or it could express arrogance, evoked by the feeling of certain superiority.  
The man opposite to Frisk wore a smile of the third type and it made them weary. He was a human information broker and had been working in favour of G's family for some time now. To ensure his cover, he only agreed to meet Frisk, a fellow human as he saw it, in a ordinary human district. This time, he picked out a restaurant as the venue. Not to fancy, but crowded enough to blend in.  
Frisk felt in places like these more inapt than in the ones dominated by monsters, yet his valuable tips convinced them to agree on his conditions.  
Something was different this time around. It had been Frisk, who contacted him. They had got wind of some rumours and they wanted to look into them with his help.  
"My sources say, there were a dozen of roundups in these districts. The human police claims to have captured a lot of supporters of the monster mafia and as promise of better protection, they now work for them."  
In a distasteful, gentleman-like manner, he poured them both some red wine.  
"If this is true, then it is indeed a troublesome business. Finding trustful people is difficult as it is." He said with a tad too much sympathy in his voice.  
Maybe his conspicuous behaviour was only their imagination. Frisk had never liked this guy to begin with, so doubting him was way too easy. They stayed quiet for a moment, while a waiter brought their dinner. They looked down at a fresh plate of spaghetti. Ever since G's brother has taught them how to cook them on their own, they had become fond of the dish.  
"It really worries me." they continued, still not touching their food. Their accompany was already cutting his pizza.  
"It is not only about the ones who are actually affected, but there are also the rumours. Things like that spread fast in areas like ours. It seeds unnecessary fear. I would like to have some clarity as soon as possible."  
He took a long sip of the wine, savouring its taste.  
"Of course," he agreed sweetly, "if I know anything I will contact you immediately."  
"Thank you." Frisk also considered the wine, but they weren't too fond of this type of alcohol.  
"I think you will understand then, that I have to make sure, every contact of ours is clean."  
His smile crumbled slightly, however, it halted, for the moment.  
"Yes...yes, sure." He gulped his wine like water now. Frisk raised one of their eyebrows. Similar to the diverse types of smiles, existed several reasons for nervousness with one consensus; it was a certain indication that something was definitely wrong.  
"So you don't mind me asking where you were in the night of the razzia, that happened in your district? I believe it was 5 days ago?"  
"What are you, the cops?" He howled about his own joke, but Frisk didn't feel like laughing at all. They carefully watched his movements, but he simply hold his silverware in his hands as if he was ready to cut another piece of his pizza.  
"Quit the joking and tell me what you know. Any kind of information on this matter is valuable."  
"You are more the direct type, I know. Your boss is the same after all."  
Frisk's curiosity surfaced and they could hardly do anything to suppress it.  
"I thought you only ever wanted to meet human interrogators. How come you know him?"  
Their attender was also aware of his successful bait, he took his time to answer.  
"Knowing, is a strong word." he amplified "If you are in my business, it is essential to keep yourself informed about influential figures, their positions and connections. This Don of yours. He is known for his long career, already made himself a name in his early twenties as the Crowbar Rogue with his effective, yet...unorthodox methods."  
That was news to Frisk. They didn't want him to know this, so they crossed their arms and prohibited their face to move even an inch.  
"So what? This goes off topic. Do you know something or not? Can you give me at least information about the police and what they might want with those people?"  
His smile returned to his face and it alerted them even more than before.  
"As I told you, I know nothing about this, except for what the news already covered. I was in a bar when they searched my area, so I didn't see anything, too."  
"That is rather strange." Without him noticing, Frisk placed their left feet above his left shoe, right where they expected his toes to be. "I got my hands on some piece of information of someone, who swears to have phoned and talked to you in your apartment this exact night."  
The smile merged with his nervous state and became too wide and twitchy.  
"You sure he didn't get the dates wrong or the person?"  
He leaned back and it was not a sign of a relaxed certainty. His one hand also moved from the dish to his knees.  
"You know, I will give you my exact dates to prove your other source wrong. Let me get my pencil." With those words, he grabbed behind his back and Frisk was sure he wouldn't pull up a pen. They acted immediately and rammed their heel into his feet. He winced but the gun was already in his hand and the pain wasn't enough to force him to let go the weapon.  
While he moved the gun up and towards their direction, Frisk knew they had to distract him. They stood up, grabbed their table and pushed it upwards. The food, the plates, the candle, everything fell to the ground in a thundering noise. The guests and the personal had moved their attentions to them with frightened looks. Some of them already ran for the door. Frisk pushed the table in its vertical position and slightly ducked behind it. Two shots fell and they went straight through their improvised, wooden wall. They could clearly see the holes, thankfully they were nowhere near them.  
Two breaths. To calm their nerves a little. They braced every inch of their body.  
Frisk moved around the table and placed their fist in his face before he even realized from which direction they came from. He screamed, tumbled, yet he hold himself on his feet. However, the punch distracted him and he loosened his grip around his gun making it easy for Frisk to grab it. Pointing at him with his own weapon they took a step backwards.  
Most of the guests had left the room by now. Only some waiters and visitors had been too afraid to move. Frisk's breath was heavy, their eyes fixed on their opposite, who equally stared at them with widely opened eyes.  
"Damn it! How much did the police promised you, that you throw away your human dignity like that?" Anger clearly lay in their voice.  
"What do YOU know about human dignity? You are a traitor to your own kind!"   
He almost shouted the last word.  
It was hard to believe Frisk could get angrier as they were now. It was difficult for them to formulate a rational sentence. In the end they only managed to spit out more insults.   
With his gun in their hand, they turned around and made an attempt to reach the door of the restaurant. Three quick steps away, they stopped again. A shot fired past them, accompanied by hysterical screams and caused them to flinch.   
When they looked back they saw the same gun as they hold, directly pointed at them. He must have had hidden it somewhere in his blazer, a paranoid backup just for situations like this.  
"Do you seriously believed you could walk out of this like that?" There was a hysterical undertone in his voice.   
"You will come with me and you will tell my new friends everything you know. They can be quite...convincing." He didn't need to get explicit, it was clear how he spoke of methods marked by violence and abuse.   
Frisk haven't been careful enough. Their mind run wild and pictures evoked by their imagination blend together with actually memories to a swirl of terrifying images.   
"No human will ever get near me like that, ever again." They had swore themselves this a long time ago, it was their personal, iron credo. They hardly realized they had spoken aloud.  
"So what?" He mimicked their response from their previous conversation. "What are you going to do about it? If you won't go with me, I will blow some holes into you and nobody would care."  
Frisk put up their own gun as a reply, aiming for his chest.  
His arrogant smile seemed unbreakable.  
"You can't do it can you? You have spend too much time with those beasts, who believe weaponry is not noble or some shit like that. But they can rely on magic, can't they? And now they infected you with their thinking and you are just a helpless, frail human with no means to protect themselves."   
Frisk wanted to resist his words, they wouldn't allow themselves to be affected by the things he said. They weren't true. They weren't...  
Their hand holding the gun trembled.   
Frisk's eyes blinked in the direction of their hand for a split second and he caught the movement.   
A shot fell again.   
But it merely graced their right arm. They didn't give him the time to actually aim next time. Fear had them tightly in its grasp, their blood was rushing through their body, allowing them to see everything more clearly than usual.  
With an uncertain grip, they targeted him. They breathed out, the air streamed out of their body leaving them completely empty. From their angle, they noticed his shock and surprise, his smile was finally gone.   
They pulled the trigger.  
The bullet hit his right shoulder, right where Frisk had intended it. For a moment, there was only silence shattered by his screams of sudden pain. He let go of his gun and feverishly grabbed his wound. The human knelt down on the floor, when Frisk turned around again.   
Their stolen weapon slid from their hand and fell to the ground without them noticing it.   
As they stormed out of the room, the dozen of fearful stares followed them and his broken screams were like an endless echo in their head. 

G felt bone-tired. He even took the elevator to his apartment instead of directly teleporting himself into his room. Using magic was troublesome. Walking was troublesome, too. Leaning inside an elevator was scratching the limit but it was bearable. It moved to the top floor, the doors opened nearly unbearably slowly and gave sight to a hallway that was supposed to be empty. Supposed, is the important addition, because there was a human crouching on the floor.   
Frisk looked up when he walked outside the elevator. Their eyes were unsteady, the pupils were too big and their hair was a mess. A bottle of wine stood beside them.   
G didn't know what surprised him more, their appearance, the fact they had alcohol with them, a type they didn't even liked, or their mere presence.  
"What are you doing at my apartment?"   
It should have been G, who posed this question but it had actually been Frisk. Looking up to him with an sincere expression, he realized they were completely serious about this. He started to understand how the bottle beside them could be half empty.  
"You are a bit confused." he slowly began "This is my floor. You live on floor three. Do you remember?"  
"Yes, of course." Frisk rambled. "That is why I am here, but I can't find my keys. You have a spare right? Could you let me in?"   
They had troubles formulating these words, articulating appeared to take all their efforts.   
G had to accept the truth. Frisk lay drunk and confused before his apartment. He has only seen them like this, one other time and it had been out of several reasons. Something had happened to Frisk today and it had been enough to get them wasted. This fact worried him the most.  
He knelt down before them and tried again.  
"I am sure this isn't your apartment. Would you mind me taking you to your own?"  
No matter how drunk they were, they would always be able to make their usual annoyed expressions. It was a clear 'no'. Frisk probably believed he intended to abduct them.   
He didn't had any other choice than to oblige.  
G fished for his keys and pulled the door open. He went back to Frisk and offered them a hand. Surprisingly enough, they accepted his help and let themselves pulled up to their unstable feet.   
"Thanks, you can go now."   
A human stood before the home of the head of a influential mafia family, telling him to go away. G shook his head over the absurdity. He guided them towards in small steps, lightly touching their shoulders to give them some balance.   
"Don't worry. I only want to make sure you get safely inside."  
The distaste for his offering was clearly written in their face.  
"Quit being the perfect gentleman. If you act like that, you remind me of that ass."   
"Who do you mean? There are a lot of asses out there."  
G figured if he would keep them occupied with a conversation, they wouldn't even notice how he escorted them inside. Additionally, he wanted to get behind the reasons of Frisk's current state.  
"That information broker. Such an ass, acting all smudgy and then trying to put some holes into me. Never liked him anyway."  
It might have been the alcohol, but G had troubles to get behind their story, to connect the pieces. They reached the living room and he aimed, still directing Frisk from behind, for the couch.   
"He was trying to shoot at you?"  
With a sudden yolt, they turned around to him. Their eyes reflected divers emotions, none of them were good. G feared he would have to take this as an affirmation.  
He let them sit down on his sofa. Frisk pulled their head upwards and put their arms above their eyes. They must have had a serious headache.  
"I will go fetch you some water. Then I will go, I promise."   
G had actually no idea, what he was going to do. He still was unclear about the events, which led to this situation and Frisk wouldn't be sober anytime soon.   
He went through some possibilities and took his time putting up his coat and scarf on a wardrobe at the entrance. Then he went to the kitchen and poured himself a quick shot of whiskey. The burning sensation of the liquid didn't help. He went on to get the promised glass of water.  
G still haven't reached a final decision, when he went back to the living room, but his presence in his own apartment was the smallest problem now.   
Frisk was gone.  
He feared they had realized their mistake and went to the elevator themselves. So he went back to the entrance, but the hallway was deserted.   
G paused for several moments and thought about this disappearance rationally. Noticing the door of the bedroom being half-opened, he reached a new guess. He pushed it completely open and switched on the lights.   
Frisk lay on his bed, caught in a agitated sleep, and in an embryonic position with their knees pulled up towards their stomach and their hands placed under their head. They continuously mumbled some words he couldn't understand.   
G sighed. It was more out of relieve, rather than resignation.  
He placed the glass of water on a side table beside the bed and dimmed the lights, carefully, so he would not extinguish them completely.   
For some time he would simply stand at the hinge and observed them. He noticed they still wore their shoes, the pinstripe suit was also nice to look at, but probably quite uncomfortable while sleeping. He couldn't do much about the clothes, besides unbuttoning the blazer, giving them a bit more chance to relax in their sleep.   
Afterwards he decided to try taking of their shoes, which was a slow and tedious task, which succeeded and Frisk only moved a little in response.   
As they lay on top of the blanket, he pulled out an extra one and covered them with it.  
Figuring this is all he could do, he tentatively sat down at the end of the bed.  
He waited until they stopped twitching and speaking words without meaning, he waited until they breathed calmly and regularly, until their eyes didn't flicker anymore, even when he knew they were deeply asleep, he still waited.

The world was aloof. It turned upside down, back and forward. It wasn't a pleasant feeling to wake up with. Frisk feared, what would happen if they opened their eyes, so they let them stay closed for the time their brain turned wheels.   
In the meantime, they tried to recollect pieces of their memory, which seemed all over the place. Locations and known, as well as, unknown faces popped up randomly demanding to be put in a meaningful order. Some of them confused Frisk and some of them were simply blank spots.   
Along with the remembering came aggravating sensations. Upset, anger, and...fear dominated the scenes, who slowly came back to them. The meeting in the restaurant, their fight, Frisk's decision, the trigger, the shot. The scenes, shortly after this, ranked from blurry details to unrecognizable. Didn't they went to Grillby's for a drink to calm their nerves? Something told them, they spend far more time in the bar as expected.  
It began to dawn to Frisk what brought them to this situation. Gladly, they appeared to have managed to reach their home safely, even though they had forgotten to change clothes.   
Tranquilized they opened their eyes, their head swirled for a moment, then settled and they could see clearly. Their relief reversed back to confusion and let them sit up stark and stiff. They indeed lay in a bed, but it wasn't their own. Frisk found themselves in an alien bedroom, illuminated by natural sunlight falling through two large windows.   
Frisk analyzed their options. They could take the door to the right, however, it might be risky as they were unsure what would lie beyond it. They noticed by further examination, that the two windows were actually also a door, probably leading to some kind of balcony. It was half open, a soft wind blew into the room, gently moving the curtains, blocking the view outside.  
If there were a fire escape stair, they could vanish from this place unnoticed. Frisk concluded it would be their best chance.   
They got steadily up to avoid expanding the constant throbbing of their brain. They came nearer the doors and noticed a familiar smell, mildly sweet, yet rough like burned wood and herbs. Before their mind could categorize it, they pushed open the window and came face-to-face with their boss.   
G was standing on the balcony with his back leaned against the lattice and a cigar of his preferred brand between his fingers. Even though he wasn't quite as perplexed as Frisk felt, his wide eyes made clear he hadn't expected them.  
"Already awake?" He asked, trying to bypass an uncomfortable moment of silence.  
Frisk didn't know where they should begin.  
"Why am I at your apartment?" And after another thought they added. "This IS your apartment, right?"   
"Well, yes." He took a puff of his cigar, he was back to his usual calm self.  
"Though, yesterday you were completely convinced it was yours. Had no choice but let you in."   
Frisk didn't want to admit it, but as he spoke additional bits of their missing memory came back and fitted the still unfinished puzzle to well as to be able to deny them.  
"Alright, but then, why..." They had troubles formulating this question, despite the chilly wind, their head felt strangely warm. G guessed, what bothered them. He blew out smoke up into the sky and wore a dangerously smug grin when he answered.  
"You wonder why you were sleeping in my bed?" Frisk suddenly had a strong urge to avoid meeting his eyes.   
"Well, let's just say, it was a long night with some pleasant surprises."  
They immediately caught the implications and started picking up the small table standing on the balcony, lifting it above their head, ready to smash it down on the skeleton in divine justice.   
Fearing they might actually execute their attack, he quickly withdraw his statement.   
"It was a joke, at least, for its most parts. I let you into my apartment and put you down at the sofa. I went into the kitchen to fetch you some water. In the meantime, you decided on your own to go into my bedroom and simply lay down there. I figured I couldn't move you in your state and let you sleep."   
While he spoke, Frisk had put down their improvised weapon and studied him thoroughly. They were certain he spoke the truth this time. Yet, it didn't made the nature of events any better.   
They sighed and joined G by leaning beside him, facing the opposite direction, towards the city and the ever expanding horizon.  
"I am...sorry for intruding your home. I wasn't thinking right."  
"Obviously." He allowed himself mild mockery. Frisk, used to this comebacks, ignored it. An occurring thought was of a more pressing matter.  
"What else did I tell you in my...unfortunate state?"   
They figured, they might have said much more sensitive information and they wouldn't even be aware of it.  
"Don't worry. Most of the stuff was unidentifiable mumbling. Just..." He puffed, thinking how he should paraphrase the following lines.  
"You continued to curse a men with unusual passion and you often referred to him as a traitor or an ass, you took a liking in both names."   
Frisk rubbed their eyelids and forehead. So they DID mention him. That wasn't good a good starting point. They knew all to well, G would not ask about what happened to them on his own, yet he would probably set one of his man up to look into the matter if they stay silent. Therefore, there was no means in lying to him.   
"He was one of our information broker, you know, the only human one we have. I met with him several times, he gave us pretty good hints from time to time."   
"He was?" G had noticed how they used the past tense.  
"I heard of several razzia's going down in his district and neighbourhood, so I began to investigate myself. Soon I found evidence of him getting contacted by the police. So I went to personally confront him."   
Frisk turned around and put their arms as support on the balustrade behind them.   
"That was risky of you." Commented G, tapping on his cigar. It didn't sound like an accusation, more like a mere statement.  
"The talk didn't go too well. He had two guns with him. I disarmed him by the first one, the second caught me off guard."  
Frisk noticed their reflexion in the windows opposite to them and how especially their hair was a complete mess. The bun hanged down halfway loose and some strands stood up in strange ways. They didn't care to much about their outer appearance, but they looked incompetent and ridiculous and it irritated them.  
They began to rearrange and disentangle the strands and continued their narration.  
"He put me into a nasty situation. I made a call and now I regret it. That is the end."  
G puffed and went silent for a short time, Frisk knew him well enough to know this is not a good sign.  
"I don't believe this is all. You walked out of this situation alive and instead of being glad about this fact you went on to catapult your brain into oblivion."  
"I didn't 'catapult'..." Frisk stopped themselves, they got self-aware of their frenzy, how they violently pulled on their hair and actually only managed to thicken and tighten the knots. They let go of their it and crossed their arms.  
"Alright, here is the situation. He had this spare gun and I had the original one. When I attempted to leave the place he shot and threatened me. If I had tried to get near and punch him, he would have holed me. I made the decision myself. I aimed for his shoulder and hit him good. Then I ran."   
They refused to look anywhere near his direction, while G let their story sink in. Slowly understanding prevailed. He reached for a knot and softly pulled out strings of hair continuing their attempt to unravel them.  
Frisk didn't stop him.   
"You made a good call then. You escaped an gunfight almost unharmed. That human should be thankful of you."  
"Why would you think that?"   
"If he would have hit or even killed you, he wouldn't be alive anymore."  
Frisk faltered with her response. G sounded calm, his voice was quiet, however, there was no doubt he was deadly serious. They were certain the human wouldn't have seen the next sunrise. It threw them off course for a moment, but their sinister thought caught up them again.  
"Why do I feel so awful then?"   
They fired back at him, because they could still feel the terrible sensation when they pulled that trigger.  
"Well, because it went against you moral standards, your own principles, that you, interesting enough, adapted more from monsters than from humans."  
Sometimes they forgot how well G knew them. For the next minutes, he just continued to pluck at hair strands without ever hurting them in the process.   
"You are and always will be a human. If someone is pointing a gun at you, you actually can't snap your fingers and the problem will be solved on its own."   
Frisk knew that, they knew and yet, his words hit a wound deep inside them, whose existence they denied for too long.   
"In this kind of situation, you would be helpless without a human weapon, so you swallow your pride and accept it or not and gamble on getting yourself meaningless killed."  
They wanted to turn around to shout and probably throw the table at him after all, wouldn't his words be so reasonable. It was like he was speaking a truth, already known but never accepted by them.   
G finished his work on their hair and let his hand slide through them. Partly to check if any knots remain, but also to enjoy the rare opportunity.  
"Don't think this defines who you are. If you regret your action it is not because you are a human or a monster, that would only be a poor excuse. No, it is because you believe, you betrayed yourself. The solution to this is simple. You need to figure out how to make sure you stay true to yourself in any situation."  
Frisk felt overrun by his words, by their strength and their implied experience. Their throat felt strangely dry and narrow.   
"Getting emotional, Kitten?" G's taunting brought them back and they answered by directly facing him.   
"You still calling me that?" Her face showed her common annoyance towards him. During this moment, they remembered another detail about the dinner.  
"By the way, I didn't knew they called you the Crowbar Rogue? What is that all about?"  
He stubbed out the cigar and wore is common smile.  
"As you know, the crowbar is my weapon of choice. You could say it always has been my one true love....What? You don't believe in our bond?"   
He added the last question as the level of distaste grew in Frisk's facial expressions.  
"No, in fact, it sounds just like you."   
For the first time in more than a day and what seemed like a lifetime, they relaxed. Their whole body language changed gradually.  
G was sure they would need some time to completely overcome their experiences. But they were the type, who would only get more determined and stronger. They only needed a little push sometimes. For now, they would be fine and this is what mattered.   
"Care to learn some juicy secrets about our relationship over an espresso?" he offered, while exaggeratedly bowed before them and pointed with one arm towards the balcony door.   
Frisk shook their head, but they followed his offer and walking inside wearing a rare, mild smile of the first type.


End file.
